Thawing the Ice
by Sam Haels
Summary: "He's not a bad man. He's a nice man. He's my best friend, and I love him." She said, in the most convincing way her four year old voice could manage. Her face scrunched up with determination, her mind already made up. Bucky was nice to her. No one else ever was. And in her mind, that made Bucky the greatest man in existence. She'd stick to Bucky like glue if she must.
1. Chapter 1

**_Greetings all. I know, I've been gone for a while. I'm back though. But with a new fic. I've lost some of the inspiration for my past fics, and I'm hoping that a new one might get me out of my rut. I hope you all enjoy, and as always, feedback is adored. _**

**_-Sam_**

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Six months. Six months since Project Insight failed. Six months since he's pulled the blond man from the river. Six months since he'd effectively gained his freedom. The Winter Soldier now spent his time on the streets, keeping a watchful eye for any HYDRA agents that might have caught his scent. After three nights in DC, the Soldier skipped town, knowing that the longer he spent in one place, the more likely he'd be found. He began moving north, never spending more than a few nights in one place.

There were three things in his head at that he knew for sure, the rest, he didn't know. The first was that HYDRA needed to go. They were the bastards that made him into what he is, and he hated them for it. He knew he couldn't rest until they were all dead. The second was that being out of cryostasis for so long meant memories began to swim to the surface, and worse it was a painful process. However, the pain was marginally made up for when he realized that some of those memories coincided with the third thing he knew and that was that money was essential. The memories that dredged up from the farthest recesses of his mind were random. Some from what he assumed was his past life, but nothing helpful. Nothing to remind him of who he might have been. Some were the tortures he faced while in the hands of HYDRA. They were painful, terrifying, and even less helpful than the latter. The most helpful memories were those of past missions, and even better, past HYDRA bases. The ones he encountered, he destroyed. But not before draining their bank accounts, taking it all out in cash. Every few cities, he'd stop and find a secure place to stash a large portion of the cash, only keeping enough with him to last to the next base. That cash bought him food, clothes, and weapons, all he needed to take out HYDRA agents. There were times when the Soldier found it amusing that HYDRA was helping its own weapon destroy them.

The Soldier's latest destination was Milbridge, Maine, searching for some form of closed building. In the six months since Project Insight, the Solider found himself living in foreclosed buildings, only sleeping when exhaustion caught up with him, and only eating when his head began to swim. Something in the back on his head told him this wasn't the right way to live, but that was a small part of his mind. A part that the Soldier wasn't sure about, and made sure to stomp down every chance he had. That small part tried to show its head again when the Soldier blatantly ignored the growl his stomach made when he passed some generic fast food joint. He'd already stopped to buy a thicker jacket, not expecting the temperature to drop as much as it had. It was nearing ten o'clock at night, and he still hadn't found a place to stay for the night, and in that moment, shelter was more important that food. After over an hour of searching, the Soldier finally found an abandoned boarded up warehouse. After a quick search of the outside, with the only open entrance being a broken window, the Soldier decided to settle here. He scaled the side of the building easily, dropping through the open window with little effort. A quick visual sweep of the inside showed the building to be secure, so he set about finding a secure place to rest for the night.

He thought the warehouse was empty. No one in their right mind would be in here on a night like this. The newspaper he'd snagged that morning showed that the weather could drop below the thirties. Those thoughts in mind, the Soldier set about finding some out of sight corner to tuck himself away in when he heard it. Faint rustling from the other side of the room. He whirled around, expecting a HYDRA agent that managed to catch up with him, but saw nothing. The rustling continued. Cautiously, he shuffled toward the source of the noise, his hand on the knife strapped at his waist. He stopped when he found what was making the noise. It was a girl, no older than four. She was tiny, judging by how tightly she'd packed herself in the corner. The rustling came from the various plastic bags and other items that surrounded her, apparently in an attempt to keep warm. Her eyes were squeezed shut, arms tucked against her chest, she was asleep it seemed. She was shivering violently, pain evident on her face. She hadn't notice him, despite how close he'd gotten to her. The Winter Soldier frowned deeply, a cold shiver running up his spine that had nothing to do with the weather. It struck him, just how easy it would be for him to kill her. All it would take is a flick of his wrist, she couldn't weigh more than thirty pounds. For some reason, it bothered him, just how easily he could hurt her. Shaking his head as if to physically rid of the thoughts, the Soldier turned around, intent on leaving the building to find somewhere else to stay. His stride faltered when he heard the girl begin to cough, a deep, harsh painful sounding cough. A cough like that from such a tiny body pulled a chord somewhere in him, and the Soldier turned around, this time stopped by fragments of memories.

_A skinny blond boy, too skinny to be healthy, walking beside a taller boy with brown hair. Both were laughing. _

_The same skinny boy a few years later, doubling over in the street, harsh coughs wracking his body. _

_The brown haired boy sitting on the edge of a bed, fear on his face, watching his friend cough up blood. _

_The blond boy, shivering violently, not responding to the doctor. _

_The brown haired boy, hugging the blond close, begging. "Steve, you can't leave. You just can't. Please."_

_The brown haired boy nearly crying with relief when Steve hugged him back. "M'here Bucky."_

The Soldier shuddered a little, his mind jerked from the swirl of memories by the young girl's coughing. The brown haired boy was him, he realized. He'd taken care of his friend in the past because his friend needed him. The Soldier realized he must have cared deeply about the other boy in his memory, Steve. The idea that he could care about anyone was foreign at best. But for some reason he couldn't bring himself to turn away. The girl needed him. He was almost positive no one else knew she was here. If someone knew, why would she be? She would die in here unless he did something. The idea of helping someone stalled him further. Was he capable of helping? He knew the kind of things HYDRA had him do. Hell, when he found her, one of the first things he thought of was how easy it would be to kill her. His thoughts once again were disturbed when the girl resumed coughing. Finally, the Solider moved forward, a decision set in his mind. He crossed the space between him and the girl with a speed unique to him. He pulled down the zipper of the thick coat he was wearing and tugged it off. He was still wearing several layers underneath, but even if he wasn't, the Soldier was built to stand the cold. This little girl wasn't. He scooped the sick girl up with his flesh arm and settled with his back against the corner where she'd been, cradling her to his chest and wrapping the coat around her. She hardly moved, the lack of action sparking worry in him. The Soldier nearly laughed, feeling worry for this girl, let alone worry at all was a strange notion. At a bit of a loss for what to do, he settled for curling his arms around the still shaking girl, keeping her close, and looking around the room. This corner of the warehouse was well hidden from sight, but still the best vantage point to see all the places of entry. The doors were sufficiently blocked, and any other points of entry would cause plenty of noise. Satisfied that he'd be woken should anyone enter, the Soldier let his eyes slide closed, exhaustion getting the best of him.


	2. Chapter 2

There was a rattle that originated from the far side of the room. It was a small rattle. Impossible to notice unless it was being looked for. And it was. The Soldier jumped up, going from asleep to alert in a matter of seconds, the knife at his waist grasped tightly in his metal hand. A cat hissed sharply at the sudden movement and scampered away, not chancing an encounter with this strange and intimidating man. The Soldier stood still for several minutes, locked in his instincts to attack anything that moved in his small hiding spot.

Finally, he let his arm drop, tucking the knife away for later use. It came to his attention then that he was holding something. And that something was breathing, and looking at him. He remembered the previous night, finding the small girl in the corner, and deciding to help her. The Soldier stared at her, and she stared back, completely silent save for her slightly labored breaths. He half expected the girl to panic, half expected her to scream, or struggle. Those were the reactions he was used to. He was an assassin after all. But no, the girl simply stared at him, not a hint of fear in her eyes. Green eyes, he noted to himself, as though it mattered.

"Who are you?" she asked in a fragile voice, frowning as though the action physically hurt. The question stopped the Soldier. Who was he? He considered telling her no one, strongly considered setting the girl down and leaving. But those memories from last night swirled to the surface of his mind again. And he remembered the name the blond boy had said.

"Bucky." He answered gruffly. The name felt familiar in a sense. And it was better than nothing. Even if it sounded a bit stupid, he had nothing else to go by.

"Why are you out here?" He added, clearing his throat to get rid of the harsh sound to his voice. The girl coughed again, shuddering harshly, curling up tighter in his arms.

"I dunno. No one lets me stay." She answered, tucking her head down. The Soldier, (or was he Buckyp now?) frowned a bit, wondering what exactly she meant by that.

"Do you have a name?" He asked, a bit softer. The small part of his mind that he tried so hard to stomp down was back again, this time a bit stronger. The girl mumbled something softly against his shoulder, the words muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Bucky huffed softly, tilting his head a bit.

"Can't hear you, doll." He said, the words spilling out before he could stop them. The little girl shuffled a little, tilting her head a bit, watching him.

"I'm Zoey." She said, punctuating the short reply with a coughing fit. Bucky waited awkwardly for her to stop coughing, not sure how to help her.

"Do you know what is making you sick?" He asked. She'd need medicine. That was for sure. Zoey shook her head, closing her eyes after a moment. Apparently the short interaction had worn her out. Bucky frowned again, mind running through a list of possible options. It was obvious she needed medical attention. At such a young age, the chances of her surviving if this sickness continued were rather slim. Rubbing his metal hand over his face, Bucky sighed. He looked at Zoey, who was now asleep in his arms and frowned again. What was he thinking? He was going to get this girl killed. If not by his own hand, whatever had her sick would get to her.

He glanced at Zoey again and let his head fall back. That feeling was back. The protector feeling that made him stay with her in the first place. Bucky sat down again in the corner, Zoey still cradled in the crook of his arm. She needed medicine. And the best place to get medicine was a hospital. But taking her in through the front door was not an option. He might have left DC, but that didn't mean that the rest of the world wasn't aware of his existence, and his hand in the destruction of the area. Hospitals are always packed with authorities, and Bucky couldn't afford to be on the radar. Not with HYDRA Still on the loose. There was no telling who could be coming after him. The next best option would be to break in to a hospital. Still dangerous, but easier to manage. Get in, find some pharmaceuticals, and leave. He had seen an ambulance not far from the warehouse yesterday, so there had to be a hospital nearby.

Even with this new plan, there was still one problem. He couldn't take Zoey with him. Stealth would be key, and carrying around a sick little girl would make that nearly impossible. Sighing softly, an action that was becoming rather frequent, Bucky tucked Zoey up in his coat, positioning her as best he could in the corner so that she was comfortable, but would remain unseen. He stood again, quickly making his way to the window, and after sparing a last glance, hopped out with every intention of returning.

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**A/N:**

_**So, first I wanna say thanks to those of you who are reading! You're awesome! Second, I wanna explain something that I'm head-canoning specifically for this fic, just in case it doesn't come across well. I know the whole, suddenly going by Bucky, and talking like Bucky thing seems a bit early. But it's not that he's transforming into Bucky all the sudden. The Winter Soldier is still there at the steering wheel, but here's what I'm trying to do. I've mentioned, (and will keep mentioning) that 'little part of his mind' that the Soldier keeps packing down. I imagine that part of his mind isn't so much Bucky, as it is Bucky-isms. I imagine that because of all the brain washing crap HYDRA pulled, his memories aren't gonna come back real easy, not without some serious digging. Sure there are fragments, (like I've already written), but no full blown memories, nothing to help him really become Bucky. Instead it's subconscious things. Mannerisms. Bucky-isms if you will. The accent, the way he talks, certain words he says like 'doll' or 'sweetheart', his Steve sense. So what comes back first is the way Bucky **_**acts **_**rather than his actual memories of being Bucky. So while early on the Winter Soldier takes a back seat, Bucky's memories don't actually return until later (with the help of Steve) it's his mannerisms that are there.**_

_**Thanks again for reading, tune in next week for a new chapter! **_

_**-Sam**_


	3. Chapter 3

The hospital was about a mile away from the warehouse he'd taken refuge in. It was small, much as expected, with limited security; something Bucky was thankful for. It was incredibly easy to slip in the ambulance door behind a paramedic and get down the hall before anyone could spot him.

Navigating the hospital was a different creature in its own right. His time as the Soldier made him used to having floor plans handed to him. He was used to knowing exactly where he was going. He was used to a strict time table. Instead, Bucky was now forced to do the scouting on his own. It took him half an hour, much longer than he'd intended to spend in the hospital, to find where the staff stored their medication. Much like getting in the hospital itself, Bucky slipped in silently as a nurse left the storage room. The door clicked shut behind him, and Bucky was faced with wall to wall shelves of medications. All with overly complicated names and no real description of their effects. His task just became infinitely harder. Not only did he not know what ailed the girl, but he did not know what any of these medications would do to her. The wrong one, and he could make the problem worse.

Bucky spent several minutes looking carefully around the room, searching for anything that could possibly help. For no particular reason, his eyes lingered on an oddly shaped object. A small cylinder tucked into what he assumed was a mouthpiece. Why did it look so familiar?

"_Here," the doctor said quietly. "This is an inhaler, it should help ease the coughing. And these are some anti-biotic pills. Take one every six hours. I'll come back the day after tomorrow." The doctor didn't look optimistic. The next visit, the medication they couldn't afford, it was all just a formality. Bucky sighed. The doctor didn't expect Steve to make it through the night, let alone make it two more days. He glanced at the blond in bed, and silently prayed he'd make it through the night. That he'd prove that doctor wrong. _

The Soldier shook his head violently as the memory fragment faded away. The blond in his memory had a similar ailment as Zoey. It was possible that similar medications would help her as well. He glanced at the object he'd picked up at some point, now identified as an inhaler, and immediately grabbed two more. Bucky stowed the medication in his pocket, and began looking around for something that said… What was it? Anti-biotic. Anti-biotic pills might be able to help the girl. He found two different bottles that both claimed to contain anti-biotic pills, and decided to take both. That would have to do for now. Now Bucky needed to get back.

Checking that the halls were empty, Bucky made his way out of the hospital the same way he came in, unimpeded. On his way out, he took two bottles of water from an empty nurse's station. Water, he'd learned, as well as food were essential to survival.

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_**I'm sorry for the short chapter everyone. But here it is anyway. I hope you like it. I'm already working on chapters four and five so I'll have those out as soon as I finish them. Thanks so much~**_

_**-Sam**_


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